


Knew How To Quit You

by Cloudnine101



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, Avocados at Law, Failboats In Love, First Kiss, Kidnapping, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6117874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudnine101/pseuds/Cloudnine101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Yeah, because you totally pressured me into it, Matt. You used your super legal powers to force me to wipe blood off your thighs. I'm rolling my eyes, by the way. You've got damn nice legs." Foggy hits one of them for good measure. "Hypothetically speaking."</em>
</p><p>_</p><p>Five times Foggy confessed, and one time Matt did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knew How To Quit You

_1_

Foggy wrings out the washcloth. He crouches. Matt's lying against the side of the sofa, his legs out in front of him. He's holding onto his left arm.

"How do you even manage to fall down a full flight of steps, Matt? I mean, surely you would've hit a wall or - something. Another person. Not that - that wouldn't have been a good thing, but - ah, hell." Foggy shakes his head. "I'll just add this to my list of Times Matt Murdock Was A Dumbass. It's long and comprehensive, by the way."

"I confess it," Matt says. "I'm a jerk."

Foggy hums. "Wouldn't go _that_ far, bud. There. All fixed."

It isn't - not really. Matt's still cradling his arm like it's paining him, and the smile he's wearing is so obviously fake that it's making Foggy wince. But he's sorted out the cuts on the legs, and since Matt won't let him poke the arm, even, this'll have to do.

"Thanks," Matt says, breaking into the quiet. "You didn't have to."

"Yeah, because you totally pressured me into it, Matt. You used your super legal powers to force me to wipe blood off your thighs. I'm rolling my eyes, by the way. You've got damn nice legs." Foggy hits one of them for good measure. "Hypothetically speaking."

"Sure," Matt says. "Great. Yes. Uh."

Foggy creaks to his feet. He's hot and tired and really, he just wants to go to sleep right now, in the middle of the carpet. He can't, though, not unless Matt's fixed. "Come on. We're going to sleep. As the guy here with the use of his arm, I'm gonna insist on you taking the bed. No - don't - I swear to God, Murdock, if you try to fight me on this one I will sit on you, and then it'll be even longer until you're out of here."

"I wouldn't mind that." Matt's doing that thing - the thing where he tries to act like he's staring right at you, and ends up laser-beaming your left ear with his eyes. Foggy smiles. "What's funny?"

"You." Foggy lunges forwards and ruffles his hair. "You big bear. You just wanna hibernate in momma Foggy's bed, don't you?"

Matt turns a startling shade of puce. Foggy's brain catches up with his mouth.

"I can take the couch," Matt's been stammering, in the meantime - and of course he's stammering, and Foggy's choking on his own foot, strike that, feet, both of them. "It's no problem. In fact, I think I'd like it better. It might help my arm to heal up quicker."

"Right. Because deliberately injuring yourself is going to sort all of your problems." Foggy slams his hand into the arm-rest and winces. "You hear that, Matt? That's the sound of my fingers breaking against this thing."

"You can't stay on it all night," Matt says. "You won't - "

"Well, I'm tough. You're the sensitive cherub here, Mr Silken Sheets." Scooping up the tub, Foggy turns back towards the kitchen. Some of the water slops down the side of it onto his sleeve. He's going to have to get that sorted out when Matt's asleep. Then again, he might not be able to stay up much longer himself. He's all tuckered out. "Go on. Get some shut-eye, Murdock. I need to prepare myself for beauty sleep."

"You can't," Matt says again, but he's wavering. Slowly, he puts down the sofa cushion he'd crushed against his chest. Foggy takes this time to admire the way the muscles in his arms bunch together. He's got eyes, okay?

"I'll see you in the morning," Foggy gets out. "Sweet dreams, sunshine."

 

_2_

Matt's out for the night with some of his Spanish class friends, so Foggy's got the couch all to himself - or, at least, he thinks he does. He's just about to settle down to Brokeback Mountain when there's a knock on the door. Setting the popcorn bowl aside, Foggy groans all the way to answering it. "Yeah, hi?"

It's Matt. He's wearing a black jumper and jeans. His stick bumps against Foggy's ankles; he withdraws it, and, smiling, says, "Can I come in?"

"Sure." Foggy steps back. Matt slides in beside him, making his way straight for the couch. He doesn't even ask before stealing some of Foggy's Mountain Dew. Foggy folds his arms over his chest. "I thought you were meant to be going somewhere?"

"It got cancelled," Matt says. "Rain check."

Foggy has no idea how a night in a club involves the weather. Maybe all of Matt's friends are as weirdly sensitive as he is. Who knows? It's not as though Foggy's complaining. Still, an actual explanation would be nice, for once.

Easing himself into Matt's side, Foggy picks up the remote. Matt's warm against him, and a solid, firm pressure. Foggy edges towards him. "Man, you're toasty. I wish I could be like you. I'd never need a heater. You're just hot all over."

"What?" Matt says.

Foggy blinks. "Hot. As in, you know, heat? Temperature? Not - uh - just forget I said it, okay? Me and my big - "

"It's okay," Matt says, and is silent. They watch the rest of the film without speaking much, apart from when Foggy starts commentating a little extra on the kiss scene, filling in the blanks his basic description can't cover. 

 

_3_

"More beer!" Foggy yells, "And another glass for my best friend, who has _graduated_ from college!"

Matt flushes pleasantly, but says, "You did as well."

Foggy slips a hand. "Eh. We're living in the moment, here. Let me treat you." Matt startles. Foggy sighs. "How is it possible for me to keep doing this? I swear to God, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable on purpose."

"No," Matt says, and the word is tight.

Foggy feels himself grow a little colder. He forces a laugh, but unsurprisingly, he's starting to panic a teeny, tiny bit. He had no idea Matt was so creeped out by this. He's going to have to stop - and by stop, he means stop touching Matt too much, and stop hugging him at the end of lectures, and stop putting Matt's hand in his arm to lead him down the street -

One of Matt's sleeves rides up over his arm.

"Is that a bruise?" Foggy says. "What happened? Jesus, Matt, that's bad."

Matt's hand moves to cover it, but it can't do the whole job, and the damage is already done. Foggy's freaking out for real now. His earlier worry had been a blip compared to this particular quake.

"I'm fine," Matt says, and it's the same phrase he always churns out - I'm fine, it's fine, everything's fine, we're fine. Foggy's sick of it. They're not fine. Foggy's not fine, but that doesn't matter, because he's never going to be able to have Matt the way he wants to, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. But now Matt's not fine. And Foggy's not going to stand for that. "Can we stop talking about it?"

"No," Foggy snaps, stubbornly, angrily, "no, we can't stop talking about it. Is somebody - is anyone - ?"

Matt's face is a blank. "Stop talking about it," he says, and he isn't laughing. That's not a request. That's a command. There's no wiggle room in it - none at all. Foggy's heart is thumping around against the walls of his chest, and he knows he should be fighting, knows he should take Matt away from here, knows that he has to make Matt safe. Matt's shoulders slump. "Let's - let's deal with it tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow. I promise."

"Alright," Foggy says, "but you promised, so you can't back down. And don't think I'm drunk enough that I won't be able to remember. I will."

"Let me get you another beer," Matt says, leaning forwards across the bar with his hand stuck out, "you've earned it."

Foggy narrows his eyes. Matt's arm comes around him - there's only the slightest hint of tension, but it's enough. Foggy's not imagining that. He can't be.

 

_4_

"I swear to God," Foggy says, as he opens the door to his new apartment, "Matt, I could kiss you. How did you find this place? And why didn't you snap it up?"

Matt's smile is soft. "I thought you might like it better. I'm told there's good scenery, and I won't be able to appreciate the views."

The views - God, the views. Foggy can see all the way out across Hell's Kitchen. There's the diner where he and coffee this one time, and a bill board, and a street lamp, and a parked car, and - and all kinds of stuff! Foggy's about an inch away from pressing his face against the glass, and possibly licking it, to mark it as his own.

"Are you kidding? Matt, this is great!" Foggy bounds forwards. Before he can hesitate, he's got Matt wrapped in a hug, and Matt's hands are on his back. Foggy's fizzing with happiness. He's practically bursting with it. "Thank you so much. I'm never gonna be able to make this up to you. Just - if you ever need anything, ever, ask me."

"Alright." Matt takes a step backwards, but Fogy clings on. This is going past the time limit for a socially acceptable hug, but he's in a super good mood. "Were you out with Marci again?"

Foggy shrugs. "Yeah. How did you know?"

"She wears strong perfume," Matt murmurs, into the lobe of Foggy's ear, and his voice sounds far away. "I'm glad that you like it. I wanted to surprise you. I'm sorry I dragged you away from your date."

"So, are you gentlemen going to put in an offer?" the estate agent asks.

Matt springs backwards. "It's just Foggy," he says, and then laughs. It's brittle. "Just Foggy's place. Not mine."

"Hang on," Foggy says, and turns. "Where are you living? It could be yours _and_ mine. Why don't we move in together?"

Matt's pale. "I've been looking at some other places," he says.

"I can tell when you're lying." Foggy shoots a glance towards the woman. She's checking her phone and frantically pretending not to listen in. "Can we go outside for a minute?"

Matt nods. Foggy holds his arm. Once they're in the corridor, he lets it drop.

"Foggy," Matt murmurs, the word a soothing whisper.

"Seriously, Matt? Seriously?" Foggy throws up his hands. "I give up! I give in! You've got me, alright? I want you to live with me, and I want us to do things together, and you don't, and that's fine, just don't be a coward about it, okay? If you don't want to be with me, come out and say so."

"I do want to be with you," Matt says. "I just - can't be. Not right now. I'm so busy, Foggy, and I - I can't afford distractions."

Just like that, the bottom of Foggy's stomach drops away. Matt's face is ashen, but firm. "Well," Foggy chokes, "I guess there's nothing more to do here, is there?"

"No," Matt says, flatly. "Nothing."

Foggy buys the flat. He lives in it alone.

 

_5_

"You know, when you said you couldn't afford distractions, I thought you meant you'd taken up with a girl - or maybe you were doing some really intense training, I don't know, or an office thing, or anything apart from this." Foggy spits the last word. "I can't believe - how could you?"

"I had to," Matt says. He's not wearing the mask anymore. Foggy had made him put it away. He looks sad - really sad. Heartbroken, maybe, but Foggy can't call it that, because Matt feels nothing for him. He's been lying for years. "I had to protect this city."

"That's what lawyers do, Matt. They protect people who can't protect themselves. But that obviously wasn't enough for you, so you - you went out and, and - became a vigilante? Is that right?"

Matt's head jerks. Aside from that, he's still. He's calm. Foggy could hit him. Matt would probably throw him out of a window.

"I can't believe," Foggy says again, "that you would ever be capable of something like this. Tell me you're not, Matt. Tell me it's a trick. Tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me I'll wake up and all of this will be gone."

"You're everything to me," Matt says, and it sounds like a confession. Matt's holding the chair like it might protect him. 

"Matt," Foggy says, turning in the doorway, "I know."

 

_+1_

Foggy wakes up tied to a chair. There's a gag in his mouth. He can barely breathe around it. He counts from one to forty, and tries to remember all the good things in his life, like his parents and the apartment and Marci and Matt, oh God, Matt. Is Matt the reason he's here?

"What do you know about the Daredevil?" the man's saying. "Tell me."

"Nothing," Foggy gasps, the cloth torn from his mouth, "nothing, please don't hurt me."

The man hits him hard. Foggy doubles up. He yells. The sound echoes. Where are they? A warehouse? Foggy feels as though his ribs have broken. What would it be like for them to actually snap?

Suddenly, there's nobody in front of him. Foggy twists his neck around, trying to get a better view. There's banging behind him, and then the man's screaming, and there's nothing - silence. Foggy can hear his breath rasping in his ears.

"I know the Devil, asshole," he yells, "so whoever you are, you'd better start running."

"Foggy," Matt says, and he's at Foggy's side. Foggy sags with relief. All of the adrenaline goes out of him. He starts to cry. Matt's hand cups his cheek. "I thought they'd killed you. You wouldn't answer your phone."

"Kinda difficult after skinhead over there chucked it in the river." Foggy tries for a laugh. Matt stands slowly. "Wait. What are you doing?" Foggy tries to stand, but ends up on his knees, with Matt's arms around him. His heart is racing.

"I'm going to kill him," Matt whispers.

Foggy shakes his head. "Nuh-uh. Not on my watch. You got the bad guy, _Daredevil_. Now let's get out of here before somebody worse comes."

Matt is torn. Foggy can tell. Reaching out, he folds Matt's hand in both of his own, and finds it shaking. Even with that, Matt kisses him gently, so gently that Foggy can barely register it before it's gone. Then Matt's arm is around his waist, and he's being tugged to his feet.

They stumble out of the factory side by side. The street is quiet. Foggy shivers, and Matt's hand tightens around his shoulders. Foggy drags in a breath. They start off home. 

"I'm so sorry," Matt says, "I should have told you, I know. But I - " 

"Shut up," Foggy tells him. And he holds his hand. "I need to be warm before I can deal with any of this, and even then it'll be a close run thing." 

"Of course. Take your time. If there's - " Foggy rests his hand on Matt's shoulder. They stop walking. "I really do love you. I don't know if you heard me the last time." 

"I did." 

They kiss, and it's how it's supposed to be, aside from the fact that Foggy's aching and Matt has blood all over his hands and they're standing in an alley that, quite frankly, smells of sick. Foggy smiles. His forehead falls against Matt's. _I can work with this_ , he thinks. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is a Brokeback Mountain quote. I refuse to be sorry.


End file.
